


run and never tire

by sleepinnude



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 1511 coda, Getting Together, M/M, No Character Death, this is not an 'empty takes cas' fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:46:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23019520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepinnude/pseuds/sleepinnude
Summary: Dean had lost Castiel to fights and Crowley and Naomi and Gadreel and then to Lucifer, to the Empty. That last time was the only time Dean really felt the loss, didn’t feel anything when he prayed to Cas (begged, pleaded, wept at the foot of his bed and asked for him to come back,come back, come back, please, God, Cas, please), was the only time Dean really believed that Cas was gone. And he was gone to the Empty and now that very place, thing, was holding both ends of Cas’s thread.He wouldn’t be coming back again.[a tag for 15x11]
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 4
Kudos: 84





	run and never tire

**Author's Note:**

> [to clarify: there is no character death in this fic!]

_"And everything that I have loved has turned to stone_  
_So pack your bags and come back home."_  
broadripple is burning | margot & the nuclear so and so's

__

__

It happens right after they get Jack back.

Or, it happens right after they get their luck back.

Or, it happens right after they get back from Purgatory for the second time.

Or – no, sorry. Look, it’s been happening for over a decade, since Castiel laid a hand to Dean to raise him from Hell, and since Dean warned Castiel not to make him open a door and Castiel told him he would give anything not to. It’s been happening through Heaven and Hell and Purgatory and the Empty and fucking Maine.

But it finally happens, really, in the Bunker, after they get Jack back. 

Sam and Dean are thrilled and Castiel is too but he keeps flinching. Dean catches it in the corners of his eyes, like Castiel is looking over his shoulder for something, waiting for some attack. At first, Dean just chalks it up to the second guess of a thing too good to be true. They got Jack – it’s enough to wonder at what price, what will come next.

It turns out to be much worse.

Sam and Jack put their heads together over the books, which leaves Castiel and Dean to beers. 

“You gotta relax, man,” Dean says as he slides a bottle to Castiel. “Just take the W – we got Jack. Enjoy it for a minute.”

Castiel doesn’t look up, doesn’t respond, just rolls the beer bottle between his hands. And then, finally, in a broken voice, “Dean.”

It doesn’t happen until after Castiel spills the whole of the story out to Dean – Heaven and Dumah and the Empty and the deal. The stupid fucking deal. Dread seeps cold and heavy into Dean’s stomach and, well, like he said: at what price? It’s worse than staring down the barrel of his three-hundred and sixty-five days till Hell because this has no ticker. A shoe hovering except the shoe was eternal nothingness.

There are loopholes and semantics abound that could be exploited based on what the thing said but Dean has a feeling they won’t be that lucky. He doesn’t think insisting that Castiel just never forget about the Empty, or never let himself be happy, will work.

“What if you weren’t an angel?” he tries anyway. His throat clicks and he hasn’t taken a drink from his beer in almost an hour.

Castiel doesn’t answer, just settles a look to Dean. His eyes are weathered, weary, and Dean can tell that he doesn’t want to fight this one. He doesn’t want to spend hours and days on end trying for a way out of his bargain. His shoulders hunch and his head tips forward and he never even opened his own beer so Dean pushes both bottles aside.

“What about Jack?” Dean asks in a rush. His hands clatter across the metal table, reaching for Cas’s, holding both of them between his. “He woke you up before, yeah? So when the big ugly takes you, he just… He just does it again.”

“Dean,” Castiel says again. He shifts his hands so that the fingers are hooked around Dean’s. Cas opens his mouth to say more but Dean looks away and there’s a horrible noise coming from his throat.

It’s a chewed-back sob and Dean tucks his face against his shoulder because this isn’t fair, this isn’t fair, nothing about their lives is ever fair but this– “I’m the one supposed to make stupid, sacrifice deals here,” he says finally, voice raw. It’s a joke, a poor excuse for one, but Castiel does due diligence toward a smile.

“I’m very sorry for stepping on your toes.”

Dean laughs, something loud and wet and then he’s not laughing, he’s crying. “This fucking sucks, man.”, 

Castiel nods. And then, cradles one of Dean’s hands in both of his. “There’s time, though. I – With Jack, with you and Sam, with…you.”

Dean looks back at that, finds Castiel’s blue, blue eyes and Cas been this strange constant for the better half of this fight. Dean had lost him to fights and Crowley and Naomi and Gadreel and then to Lucifer, to the Empty. That last time was the only time Dean really felt the loss, didn’t feel anything when he prayed to Cas (begged, pleaded, wept at the foot of his bed and asked for him to come back, _come back, come back, please, God, Cas, please_ ), was the only time Dean really believed that Cas was gone. And he was gone to the Empty and now that very place, thing, was holding both ends of Cas’s thread.

He wouldn’t be coming back again.

And so it happens, has been happening, finally happens.

Dean twists and rises from his seat and pitches toward Castiel. Their faces are an inch apart, less, Dean stops and just drops his forehead to Castiel’s. They close their eyes – Castiel breathes out, Dean breathes in. “Cas?” he asks and his mouth is practically on his now so when Cas nods it both answers his question and does the job for him.

They kiss, noses nudging clumsily and Dean has one hand planted on the table and the other still tangled in both of Cas’s. They kiss and Castiel inhales like he’s drawing oxygen from their touch itself and Dean can feel the linger of tear tracks on his cheeks. Their lips part, just barely and Dean opens his eyes to find Castiel smiling, eyes still shut. “I could have sold my soul a little sooner,” he offers.

“That’s not funny,” Dean protests.

“Fine, then, you could have gotten your act together a little sooner,” Castiel says and it’s a tease but it still scoops something raw and throbbing from Dean’s chest.

“Cas,” he says, voice breaking and Cas saves him the embarrassment, kisses him again, firm and hot. Dean gives as good as he gets so this kiss is as rough and pleading as the first was soft and searching. The table between them becomes a real hindrance so Dean shoves back from it, notes the condensation print of his palm that marks the metal, and pulls Castiel to him, full-body.

Dean holds tight across the tops of Castiel’s shoulders and Cas reaches back, locking up around Dean’s back except where one hand just brushes through his hair and Dean might be crying again or he might be laughing again but he is for certain kissing Castiel again, and again, again.

Somehow, they find their way to Dean’s room, passing through the quiet murmur of Sam and Jack talking that drifts from further out in the bunker. It’s not a mad dash or a stumbling fit of pressing backs to walls and searing kisses. They just walk, steady and sure, shoulders brushing and when they turn one corner, Dean takes the cuff of Castiel’s trench coat to hold on to.

When the door is closed behind them, Dean fidgets and then blurts out, “Will this do it? Do you think…?” He trails, gesturing vaguely to the bed and then wincing at the implication.

“I don’t know,” Castiel answers without much hesitation – like he’s parsed the question before Dean even thought to ask it. And maybe he has, maybe he’s played out all the possibilities: getting Jack back, Dean getting his shit together. Cas says he doesn’t know, but Dean is pretty sure this will be okay – after all, there’s still that whole thing with Chuck to worry about, right?

But they are on borrowed time now so Dean steps forward and Cas does too and they meet in the middle. Carefully, Dean pushes off Castiel’s jacket, undoes his tie, slips the buttons of his shirt free. He creates a puddle of Castiel’s clothing and when he’s finished they’re both panting, with swollen lips and obvious erections and Dean has far too many clothes on, which is something Castiel begins to rectify with a low, throaty hum.

When they tumble onto Dean’s bed, it’s like the universe sighs. Like something deep within destiny finally can stop holding its breath.

The next morning, Dean takes a minute to get his bearings, to remember it all. Jack, Cas’s bargain, mouths and tongues. He reasoned with himself the night before that this wouldn’t be the thing to take Cas but now he can’t be sure and he holds his breath.

He opens his eyes and finds Castiel sprawled in the space next to him in bed. Castiel’s hair is reminiscent of when they first met, when Cas always smelled faintly of melting metal and looked just sideways of human, and his eyes are closed with faint lines of veins showing in the delicate skin there. Dean reaches out, puts a hand to the expanse of Cas’s back – between the spaces where wings might rest – and Castiel stirs.

His head lifts up and then he turns to Dean, eyes quizzical. “I really thought that might be it,” he says.

“I’m good but I’m not that good,” Dean teases. And then he shifts his weight, leans toward the angel and slides their mouths together. He ends up with one of Cas’s hands palming his cheek and interest stirring below the belt.

“You’re better,” Castiel says into his mouth and it only half-makes sense but then they’re kissing again and maybe they’ll find a way to kill a pre-primordial cosmic entity or maybe they won’t or maybe Cas will annoy the thing into submission again or maybe Jack’s love for his father will overcome any banal evil or maybe none of it matters, maybe tomorrows will come and memories will last and Dean will, at the very very least, have this and so does Cas.

**Author's Note:**

> title from ryan adam's "desire" bc you know fuck it
> 
> play with me on [tumblr](https://sweatercas.tumblr.com/)


End file.
